Entwined
It was a wise machine
that wound this ball of string
as tight as season rings
somewhere it started
and somewhere it ends
the whirl of things not right
nor wrong - just reasoning
wandering round and circling
like thrum of strands within threads
like clustered shards in filaments.
a universe of time
unquenchable, intense
untwisting, complex intent.
I understand.
We are entwined
beneath this endless, turning
firmament.